TMNT-- Through the Fire
by DisneyBeatleTurtlefan94
Summary: When a raging fire afflicts a New York City apartment complex, which Hero in a Half Shell goes the extra-mile to ensure a safe night for all? But will his safety be infringed in the process? Read to find out!
1. Chapter 1

As the six-story apartment building singed and burned with flames climbing high into the amethyst sky, a large crowd of citizens who once inhabited that establishment encircled its entrance in dismay. Distraught that the place they once called home was now burning to ashes right before their very eyes, all the teary-eyed people could do was watch as their memories disintegrate; and thank their maker that, in the wake of this disaster, at least they still had their families.

Many were still in tears, some were just amazed… and others were confused. As their clouded memories looked back on the tragic incident, some recalled four large, bulky creatures assisting the elder citizens down the stairs and helping the smaller children locate their families as they pointed the way out of the burning building. In the thick, black smoke, nobody could make out whom, exactly, these guys were. Some thought them to be fire men, but many dismissed that theory: as the fire department had rolled in only a few seconds ago. Well, whoever those strange figures were, they were a major reason why those citizens were still alive. Though a part of their lives were destroyed, they were safe.

Yes, in the regional frontage of the burning building, things looked bad. As it turned out, however, things were just as awful around the back of the housing facility, as well…

"Oh-ho, man," hacked a heaving Raphael, "That was clo-hose, dudes!"

As the turtles wiped the black soot from their shoulders and shells, they coughed incessantly while trying to regain the vast amount of oxygen that had escaped their lungs in the fire rescue they had just performed.

"Yeah," Leonardo commented, catching a quick gasp of air, "Good thing April called us when she did. Otherwise-"

"Excuse me," Donatello interrupted after clearing his throat, "Whaddya mean 'us?' It was _my_ shell-phone she called, y' know. "

Making an effort to engage in the conversation, Michelangelo— who was doubled-over trying to catch his breath— attempted to pick his head up to add in a comment of his own. However, his efforts were dismissed as a deep, chesty cough racked Mikey's exhausted body: quickly resulting in a hacking fit. He wasn't sure why, but for as long as he could, his lungs were his Achilles' heel. This always happened to him: every cough turned into a fit, and every cold, eventually, turned into pneumonia. For a while, Donnie was sure that Mikey was asthmatic, and _insisted_ that he use an inhaler. Mikey, however, refused: claiming he 'didn't need one': and whenever Mikey started to cough like he was now, all Donnie could think to himself was, 'I told him so.'

"You alright over there," Donnie huffed as he watched his poor brother strain his lungs for air.

"F-fine," Mikey choked out hoarsely as his green, freckled cheeks blazed a deep tint of burgundy.

"Alright, guys," Leo chimed, dusting some soot off his left shoulder, "Time to hit the sewers. Our work here is-"

"_Emily?! Emily!"_

Startled by the absent-bodied cries, the half-shelled heroes quickly looked at each other before locating the source of the sound.

"Sounds like it's coming from the front of the building," Raph said, tilting his head towards the direction of the voice.

Peeking out from the side of the building, the turtles quickly identified the body of which the cries belonged. Frantically pushing her way through the crowd of a now-homeless populace, a young lady in her mid-twenties called the name of her daughter, Emily, who was nowhere to be found after all of the chaos of exiting the building ensued.

"Emily," the young mother screeched as she pushed through the mass of bodies, "Emily! Emily, sweet-heart- where are you?!"

The boys in green were both shocked and confused. They thought they had helped _all_ of the children find their parents. How could there still be somebody missing?

"Maybe," Donnie whispered, "She's just… lost in the crowd, or something."

"We scoped that building top to bottom," Raph added indefinitely, "It's completely clear."

"Don't be so sure," Leonardo inquired anxiously as he pointed up at the smoky apartment building, "Look up."

Obeying their eldest brother's wishes, Donnie, Mikey and Raph gasped as they saw a tiny silhouette peak out from the window: inaudibly screaming from balcony on the second level of the apartment, mouthing what appeared to be the words 'Help me'. Unfortunately, just as quickly as she appeared, the small figure vanished back inside the burning building.

"Wait, dudette," Mikey cried with a cough, "D-don't go back in there!"

"She can't hear you," Donnie gestured worriedly, "She… she's-"

Just as Donatello was about to bring an unfortunate close to his sentence, a roar of screams invaded his train of thought. Startled by the horde's cry, the turtles rushed around to the front of the building toward the back of the crowd so not to be seen.

Screeching in terror, the citizens pointed to the smoke-singed building as they little girl appeared just as she did to the boys in green: on a balcony, crying for help… and scared.

"Let me through," the young mother huffed as she tore through the crowd, "Let me-"

Stopping short, the mother gazed upon the small silhouette which she knew belonged to her daughter. Though she appeared to be nothing more than a blonde-headed blob, a mother knows her daughter.

"Emily," she cried as tears stung her eyes while grabbing the attention of a nearby policeman who was guarding the blockade and taping it off with a bright-yellow band labeled, 'Caution.'

"Officer," the woman screamed, "Officer! Please, my daughter… sh-she's still in there! She's right up there! Please- you have to let me through: I need to save her!"

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the police officer heaved forlornly, "But… This area is prohibited to both citizens _and_ authorized personnel."

"No," the mother hushed quietly, her eyes set wide with disbelief, "No, please- I –I can't just leave her up there. Somebody has to-"

"I really am sorry, ma'am, but this building could collapse at any second. A-and we can't admit _anybody_: fire men, the Pope. _Nobody_ is permitted to pass through the yellow tape-"

"But my _baby_! My Emily- _she'll die!"_

"I'm truly sorry, miss. If there was something I could do to save her-"

"There _is_ something you can do: **let me in there**!"

"But ma'am-"

" 'But ma'am', nothing," the young mother said forcefully, "**That's my world up on that balcony."**

As the woman went to pass through the yellow-tape, the police officer used his entire body to stop her from entering the building.

"Ma'am- **Bill, Roy: come as soon as you** – _It's a safety hazard, ma'am_," the official yelled through his walky-talky as he called for back-up.

Over-hearing all of this commotion, the boys in green made their way over to the back of the apartment building to conjure up an idea in hopes of saving the girl.

"There's gotta be _something_ we can do," Raphael exclaimed, slamming his right fist into the palm of his left hand.

"But wait," Donatello cut in with his face stained with a discouraging frown, "You heard the officer- no admittance."

"He also said that the building was about to go down any second," Leonardo added as he placed a hand on his eldest brother's shoulder, "Face it, Raph: There's just no way to save her. I hate to say it, but… it's hopeless."

Though he was aggravated and upset by these responses, Raph knew they were right. Needing a way to channel his rage, the red-clad turtle stormed furiously over to a nearby mailbox and punched it. With each repeated jab, the angrier Raphael became. Finally coming to the realization that this, of course, was not helping the situation, the infuriated turtle slumped down beside the dented mailbox: hiding his face in his hands to hide the tears of frustration that were frenziedly streaming from his wide, green eyes.

After beholding their brother's eye-catching display, Leonardo and Donatello look at each other and bowed their heads in rout. Never had the turtles felt so defeated. Just as upset, the youngest of the turtles sighed sadly. Gazing at his brothers, and then looking up at the smoldering edifice, Michelangelo knew what he had to do.

So in a matter of seconds, Michelangelo took a deep breath, looked at the building, and charged through the smoke-blackened back door of the building.

"Mikey," Donnie exclaimed as he saw the quick, orange flash of his brother sprint away, "W-what are you-"

"Mikey, **get outta there**," Raph shouted, jumping up worriedly, "That building's gonna fall any minute, you moron!

"_**Michelangelo**_," Leonardo cried as he went after his brother; only to be stopped by the purple-clad turtle.

"Leo, no! That building can barely hold two people, let alone-"

"So, what are you proposing, Don," Raph intruded furiously, "We just let him go in there… alone?!"

"Raph," Donnie said with a tone of urgency, "If we go trampling through there that entire foundation could collapse. We… we just can't take that risk."

As the three worried brothers stared nervously at the burning ton of quaking construction, they each had the same thoughts buzzing through their minds:_ 'How long is that building going to hold?' 'What if it collapses?'_ _'What would we tell Master Splinter?' _Though it was difficult, the brothers silenced these thoughts; and focused on the most important thing… Michelangelo.


	2. Through the Fire

Though the gas and smoke stung his eyes and throat, Michelangelo fought to find his way through the ashy building: more importantly, to find that little girl. With his crystal blue eyes tearing, the orange-clad turtle beheld a flight of stairs which were miraculously stable. Dodging falling bits of flaming debris that fell from the ceiling, Michelangelo began his journey up the steps.

As he climbed the steps, coughing all the way up, Mikey could feel his lungs constricting. With one quaking stride, Michelangelo gasped as the wooden stair piece he was about to step on crackled and fell down to the ground floor. Though he tried not to, the young turtle thought of how easy it would be to just turn back and leave: to just go out the way he came, breathe in the fresh nighttime air, and go home.

'_Nope,' _Mikey thought to himself, gulping deeply,_ 'No quittin' now. I've gotta do this.'_

After a few minutes of mountaineering, Michelangelo had finally reached the second level of the building. Pausing for only a moment to wipe the large beads of sweat that were stained across his brow, Mikey took immediate action as he searched through each room for the little girl. He only hoped he wasn't too late…

With blood-shot eyes, Mikey searched through every room on that floor. In each area he peaked in, the orange-clad turtle saw sofas scorched with fire, and broken picture frames singed by the ravenous flames. It was like Death was dragging his finger along the walls of each room— setting ablaze every inanimate object and all it stood for. It was just horrifying, simply horrifying, to see all of these apartments: these memory-holders, these homes… destroyed.

There was no time to dwell, and for Michelangelo, time was of the essence. Though his throat was like the Sahara from breathing in the shallow, dry ash, Mikey used what little voice he had to call the young girl's name.

"Emily," Mikey cried hoarsely with a cough, "Emily, where are ya dudette?"

Still no luck, Michelangelo continued to call out to the little girl. He wondered if he was calling the right name. Maybe he wasn't loud enough, and she didn't hear him. Or maybe… maybe she _couldn't_ hear him. Quickly, Mikey discharged this thought: he had to keep the faith. Just then, a loud crash of something caving in startled the young turtle; and shrill, high-pitched scream rattled the room. The most startling thing about this, however, was— due to his sore, dry throat from breathing in all of the smoke— the high-pitched, girly scream _didn't_ belong to Michelangelo.

Lifting an eyebrow in curiosity, Mikey looked in all directions to find the source of the scream. As he excavated through the area, the orange-clad turtle perked up once he heard the sound of soft whimpers and quiet sniffles coming from the corner of the complex he believed used to be a kitchen. Rushing over, Michelangelo tore through everything that stood in his path: knocking over an enflamed table, singed chairs— even the refrigerator! And surely enough, he found in the corner of the room a little girl in pink pajamas: rolled up in a frightful fetal position clutching a rag doll that was just as sooty as she was.

"Emily," Michelangelo cried with excitement before turning his head and releasing a gruff cough, "Quick, dudette! We gotta getchu outta here!"

"Wwwho are you," Emily moaned as she scooted a few inches away from Michelangelo.

Just as Mikey was about to reply, a deafening rumble quaked above him. This was a sign, and Michelangelo knew that they had to get out… _now_.

"Th-there's no time to explain," Mikey answered back hoarsely, "But look: I'm a friend. A-and I'm gonna get you back with your Mommy. But we've gotta-"

"Annie, too," the blue-eyed little girl inquired as she lifted her worn-out rag doll toward Michelangelo.

Trying to keep things light so not to scare the little one, Michelangelo replied in as cheery a voice as his raw throat would let him, "Uh… well, yeah! Of course Annie, too!"

"Yay! Okay, let's go!"

Taking the mutant's hand, Emily (and Annie) followed Michelangelo through smoldered, smoky hallway. Listening to the little girl coughing above his own, the orange half-shelled hero mustered up enough breath to speak to her.

"Emily," Michelangelo choked out, "Uh, pretend you're swimming. Hold your breath- try not to breathe too much, okay?"

Nodding amiably, Emily began to hold her breath as she and the big green man charged through the building. Though it was pitch black and thick as pea soup, Michelangelo seemed remembered the way he came; with his memory serving as his only compass.

Finally down to the ground level of the apartment complex, the three victims were close to the front door. Unfortunately, way to the door was blocked by a raging flame rising high into the ceiling: burning through the second floor's support beams, weakening its strength, and nearing a collapse which would cause the entire building to crumble.

Knowing that time was wearing as thin as the building's foundation, Mikey thought of a quick plan to get Emily and Annie the doll out of there. Sprinting over to one of the nearby windows, the orange-clad turtle punched out the glass with one jab. Though his hand was cut and bloodied, Michelangelo stifled a yelp of pain, picked up the little girl, and helped her climb out the window to her freedom.

Meanwhile, on the outside of the building, the very worried half-shelled heroes still waited anxiously for the return of their brother.

"He's been in there a long time," Donnie said quietly as he stared at the building.

"Too long," Raph added, looking over at Leonardo.

"Enough of this," Leo brooded determinedly, "I'm going-"

All of a sudden, a wave of cheering stirred from the front of the building. Eyes wide with hope, the turtles sprinted to see what was going on.

Both thrilled that the little girl was alright and disappointed that Michelangelo was not there with her, the turtles beheld the sweet reunion of the frightened young mother and her little Emily. While the police officers and fire men tried to fight off the people who began to crowd the small family, the two of them shared a saccharine embrace of tears and relief.

"Oh, Emily, sweetheart," the youthful woman sighed happily as she repeatedly kissed her daughter on the head, "Don'tchu **ever** scare Mommy like that again! Now where were you?! You were right behind me, and when I looked away for a second you were gone-"

"I'm sorry, Mommy," Emily exclaimed as she wiped the dirt from her eye, "But I had to go back for Annie! They said, 'everybody out,' and I fergot her in the rush! So- I turned back, and I went ta look for her."

"Oh, honey," the mother scolded, "That was _very_ foolish. You could've- Oh, never mind. What matters now is that you're safe. But Emily, dear, how did you ever escape?"

"Well," Emily began, "There was guy who helped me out-"

Just as the turtles were about to walk back to the other side of the building, Donnie elbowed Raph and Leo in their sides and nodded his head towards the child.

"-He was really nice! He knew the way out an' everything. He even helped Annie get out, too! Le'see… he was, er, like a big green man!"

Looking eagerly at each other, the brothers continued as the mother chuckled, "Oh, honey. And where did this '_big green man'_ go?"

"Hmmm," Emily pondered, "I dunno! I think he said that he was gonna leave the other way."

Without missing a beat, the boys in green sprinted to back of the apartment building to see if their heroic brother had made it out yet.

"He's gotta be back there by now," Donnie insisted cheerily as he dashed alongside his brothers.

"Yeah," Leo adjoined, "I bet he's there right now. What do you think, Raph? "

Raphael, however, was speechless. For when the three turtles finally reached their destination, no orange-clad turtle was found. Staring at each other in despair, Raph, Don, and Leo all bowed their heads in despondency.

Just then, the ground began to shake uneasily. The fog in the air grew thicker as larger pieces of fiery wreckage collapsed, stirring up dusty ashes which tumbled to the earth. Through the haze, Donatello squinted his eyes to find the dark silhouette of the tall, six-story building beginning to buckle, and attempted to yell above the deafening rumble, **"It's gonna fall!"**

Even as the smoke stung them, Raphael's eyes grew wide with fear, and promptly screeched, _**"Michelangelooooo!"**_

Just as the building began to fall to the ground, a mysterious 'CRASH' sounded as a mysterious, bulky shadow whirled out of the back windows and smack into the ground.

Within seconds, the entire building was in ruins. Nobody moved. All anybody could do was cough and cry. As the dust settled, the turtles knew that since there was no longer a giant building blocking their existence, they had to leave.

"We… we need to go," Leonardo said quietly.

"B-but what about Michelangelo," Raphael screamed; his voice cracking with emotion.

With tears in his eyes, just they were in his brothers', Leo replied, "Raph… It _kills_ me to say this, but-"

Just as Leonardo was about choke out the words his heart pained to say, Donatello looked once more upon the scene of the fire and exclaimed, "_**LOOK!"**_


	3. Ups and downs

Just as Leonardo was about choke out the words his heart pained to say, Donatello looked once more upon the scene of the fire and exclaimed, "_**LOOK!"**_

Revealing a vast pile of debris, the turtles noticed a green, bloody three-fingered hand sticking out from beneath it. Frantically rushing over, the turtles desperately dug through the mound of ash and foundation to, hopefully, find the rest of their baby brother attached. As they dug through the heap, the three brothers called out his name: in hopes that maybe, just maybe, he'd reply. Eventually, the boys in green found two arms, two legs, and a head: all connected by a neck and bodice. Though his face was scraped, his arms and legs bruised, and his wrist broken—as it appeared to Donnie, at least— it was still Michelangelo, alright!

"Mikey," Raph called as he lifted his baby brother's upper body, "Michelangelo, buddy, answer me."

Leo waved his hand in front of Mikey's closed eyes in hopes of stirring him with no avail. Grabbing his shoulder to nudge his youngest brother awake, he whispered forcefully, "Mikey? Michelangelo, please- wake up."

"Don," Raph shouted as his intelligent brother came closer to him.

Taking his two index fingers, Donatello checked Michelangelo's vital signs for any sort of reaction. He checked… and re-checked… and re-checked.

And he stopped. He just looked at the ground. He didn't even blink.

"W-well," Raphael nudged, starring wide-eyed at the purple clad turtle.

Looking up at Leonardo and Raphael, Donatello blinked his huge, brown eyes rapidly, gasped involuntary, and closed his teary eyes as he shook his head back and forth. Unfortunately, the red and blue-clad turtle knew what this meant.

"_No,"_ Raphael mumbled quietly before bellowing an enormous, **"NO!"**

Hugging his little brother's limp body, Raphael sobbed violently as the others joined in suit. They didn't care that they were out in the open, completely exposing their identities! They just wanted their brother back. They felt hopeless, _completely_ hopeless… but not for long.

Above the sound of their aggressive blubbering, they could just barely make out the sound of somebody coughing. Gasping audibly, the three turtles glanced at each other just before they found their youngest brother moaning and wheezing heavily beneath them. Though he looked miserably ill, the orange-clad turtle stretched a smile across his freckled- face as he greeted his brothers with a croaky, gravelly, "What's up, dudes?"

Cheering loudly and dog-piling Michelangelo, Leonardo and Donatello squeeze their baby brother. Before he joined the embrace, however, Raphael brutally attempted to stifle his tears of joy as he screamed in his littlest brother's face, **"If you EVER scare us like that again, I'll kill ya!" **

As a fit of laughter broke out among the four brothers, another fit of coughing began to rack Mikey's ash-filled lungs.

"Poor guy," Leo fussed, "We'd better get you home."

Just as a ninja should, the turtles vanished without a trace. As the cloud of dust rose, a few people inquired curiously about the pile of fragments.

"Hey," a fire man wondered, "Weren't there four giant rocks on that pile just a minute ago?"

"Nah," a policeman replied, "It's late. You're just seein' things, Barry."

Back at the sewers that night, the three brothers stayed awake the rest of the night to help nurse their little brother back to health. While Leonardo helped clean off Mikey's open wounds, Raphael assisted Donatello in bandaging his broken hand and fractured wrist. Even though the night was rough, things were about to get even rougher once the morning came…

"Let us see," a very heated Master Splinter yelled as he glared at his pupils, "Staying out three hours past curfew **without** a phone call, nearly exposing yourselves to the outside world… **absolutely **_**disgraceful**__._"

"But Sensei," Leonardo began.

"**'But'** nothing," Splinter responded angrily, "I will not have any **'buts'** today."

Giggling quietly, Michelangelo quickly slapped his bandaged hand over his mouth.

"You find this funny," the old rat snapped at his youngest son, "Well, let me ask you this: **Do you find being grounded for three months 'funny'?**"

Above the groaning and grumbling, Michelangelo tried desperately to grab the attention of his master. However, since his voice was still gravelly and hoarse from the smoke, he had to attempt a different approach. Taking his good hand, Mikey stuck his forefinger and thumb between his cheeks, and let out a whistle that hushed the entire room. Knowing what he needed to say, the orange-clad hero cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Sens-_ei_," Michelangelo choked out as loudly as his voice would permit him, "It there's gotta be a punishment… punish me. Not them."

Unsure of what Michelangelo was doing, the other three turtles just stared at their little brother in awe as Master Splinter quirked his eyebrow inquisitively.

"But my son," the rodent-Sensei responded, "Why place this heavy burden solely on your shoulders?"

"Bec_-a-_use," Mikey replied as his voice cracked, "It's my fault. I'm the one that rushed back in there after we saved those people. A-and if I d-_iiid-_n't, we would have been home on time… and we wouldn't have threatened our identities."

"That reminds me, Michelangelo," Splinter inquired, "Why did you run back in there in the first place?"

_'Aw, man," _Mikey thought to himself,_ 'If I tell him the truth, he's never gonna believe me! Gotta think, gotta think…"_

"Uhhh," the orange-clad turtle began, "I, er, I thought I left my sh_-ell_-phone behind."

Confused by this, the turtles looked at one another. Splinter only shook his head.

"Extremely foolish, Michelangelo," the rat sighed, "Material things are replaceable. You are not. I… I am quite disappointed in you, my son."

"You sh-_ou-_ld be, Sen-"

"No, you _**shouldn't**_ be, Sensei."

Wondering why his eldest brother interrupted him, Michelangelo jolted his head to find the blue-clad turtle looking his father straight in the eye.

"Master Splinter," Leonardo began, "Michelangelo's a hero! The real reason he ran back into that building is because there was a little girl who was trapped in there."

"She couldn't've been more than about five, Sensei," Donnie joined in, "And she was the only one left in there before the whole thing caved in. And her mother-"

"Her mother was a wreck," Raphael added, "Master Splinter, if you saw how scared this woman looked… She was in a mad panic! And what worse- the whole place was blocked off. _Nobody _was allowed to go in there and save her. And if Mikey didn't go in a-and do what he did-"

"That poor mother would've had to watch her own daughter die, Father," Leo started up again, "Now just imagine, Master Splinter, if you were that mother, and one of **us** was trapped in a burning building. And there was nothing- absolutely nothing- you could do about it… Wouldn't you want somebody to save us, Master Splinter?"

The old rat imagined the horrifying scenario play before his very eyes, and he was instantly taken back to the days of his human-life with Miwa and Tao-Shen. While a blazing fire burned through his memory, tears stung his beady eyes as he looked as his battle-scarred son.

**"Michelangelo,"** Splinter began angrily.

Cringing in trepidation, Mikey awaited the punishment he thought he was about to receive: only to be pleasantly surprised by a gentle embrace from his father.

"That was a very noble thing you did, my son," Splinter said quietly, "But you are very, _very_ lucky. You could have _died_, Michelangelo… I must urge you that, yes- it is very well and good to do the right thing…which you did."

"Alr-_iii-_ght," Mikey cheered with his voice, once again, cracking.

"But," Splinter frowned as he waggled a long, bony finger.

"I thought he wasn't having any today," Donnie whispered to Leonardo with a laugh.

**"Hai,"** Splinter chanted abruptly before relocating his path of thought, "_But_- you must be careful in the process. Be wise, and be mindful of the dangers ahead before you dive into them. Because, my son… and I mean this for all of you to comprehend… if something were to happen to you, I could not live with myself. I love you my sons, and I want the very best for you. Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes," Michelangelo replied as he bowed to his master.

"Yes, Sensei," Leonardo responded.

"Indubitably," Donatello countered brightly.

As the boys awaited Raphael's reply, the three turtles glanced over to find their brother sniveling and trying to stop himself from crying again. This had been a very emotional twenty-four hour time-span for the hot-head!

"C-crystal, Sensei," Raphael garroted out against the lump in his throat.

"Aww," Mikey giggle with a cough, "How cute: Raph's cr-_y-_ying."

"Yeah, yeah," Raphael retorted angrily, "Just shut it, Squeaky, unless you want me to break your other hand."

"Oh, yeah," Mikey began, "W-well, _hu-hem!_ Well if you're s-so, _heck-hmm! _Ugh, so tough, then why don'tcha j-just, _h-uck-huck-hem! __**H-hurrck, huurck, hurrm-**_"

"Oh boy," Donnie sighed as Michelangelo started up again with another coughing fit, "Here he goes again."

"H-hey, D-hon," Mikey struggled to say through his fit, "Y-you remember that inhaler you made me a while back 'cuz ya said I needed it? Yeah, um… I know it's a little late, but… I think you might've been right."


End file.
